


Hell Hound On My Trail

by YlvaUllsdotter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, F/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, Reader Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Top!Reader, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 00:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13868778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: When you realize that the monster you are hunting is an actual hell hound, you are forced to call the Winchesters for help. Dean shows up alone. He looks really good in glasses.





	Hell Hound On My Trail

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @pinknerdpanda's 1k follower challenge. Prompt was the gif. Mind the tags. I apologize for nothing.

“Crap!”

You downed the whole glass of whiskey in one swallow, the burn fueling your frustration. The signs were unmistakable, everything lined up with the lore. The monster you were after was an actual Hound of Hell. This was not good. You had never hunted a hellhound before and you had nothing in your arsenal that could kill it. Or even see it. With a defeated sigh, you reached for your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you found Dean Winchester’s number. You paused to collect your thoughts, and to talk yourself up because you really did not want to do this, but you could see no other options.

Hitting the call button, you put the phone to your ear, listening to the rings, almost hoping no one would pick up. No such luck.

“Y/N?”

His voice was just as deep (and sexy) as you remembered and you had to mentally slap yourself to get your words out in a somewhat normal-sounding voice.

“Hey, Dean-o. What’s shakin’?”

“Hey yourself. Callin’ to chat, or you need something?” He sounded suspicious already. Not good.

“Uhm, well, actually…”

“Hah! What’ve you got, sweetheart?” Now he sounded smug. Bastard.

“All the signs point to hellhound. And I got nothing that can kill one. I hear you and Sam might have something?”

“Yeah, we got a little pig sticker that’ll take care of the mutt. Where you at?”

“Small town in Iowa. I’ll text you the details”, you said, as you were already typing the text.

“Got it”, he said a moment later. “Sam’s busy, but I can be there in...five hours, give or take.”

“Great. I can get some sleep while I wait. See you then.”

“Yep.”

Throwing your phone down on the table you buried your face in your hands and groaned. Sure you had no choice, but that did not mean you had to like the only option. It was going to be a chore working with Dean again, but you would just have to suck it up. Be a professional. You could do this. Groaning again, you dropped your head down to the table with a thump. This was going to suck major ass.

A little less than five hours later you heard the distinctive sound of the Impala’s engine as Dean rolled up and parked in front of your motel room. Wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible, you had already packed your gear. He had barely got out of the car when you opened the door.

“So, how are we doing this?” Yep, you could do this. All business. Full professional. Do not stare at his lips! Fuck!

“Well hello to you too, sunshine.” That damn smirk was going to kill you. He grabbed a duffel out of the back seat and slung it over one shoulder. “I’ll need a few more details, like where is this mutt and what’s it been chewing on?”, he went on as he sauntered over towards the door. You had to give yourself another mental slap to snap out of staring at those bow legs and let him into your room.

Pouring you both a shot of whiskey, you handed him his glass. You drained yours in one go, refilling the glass, and hoping the liquid courage would be enough to keep your mind on track as you settled down to give Dean a run down. Fifteen minutes later he had all the information he needed and had explained to you about the “Holy Vision” glasses. Five minutes after that you were checked out and headed out in Dean’s car toward the area where the hellhound had been hunting.

* * *

 

It was twilight by the time you got there. 'There' being the small forest area just outside of town where the hellhound had killed six people so far. Dean handed you a pair of glasses, putting on another pair himself.

“Here, you’ll need this”, he said as he held out a weird looking silver blade. He noticed your expression as you examined the blade and those damn lips quirked up in a smile. “It’s an angel blade. Never seen one before?”

“Really? No, but I’ve heard about them. Kills pretty much anything, yeah?” You were unable to keep the awe completely out of your voice, but he seemed not to notice.

“Pretty much. Keep it handy. Those hell bitches are fast.”

He slammed the trunk shut and you set out along one of the many trails through the underbrush. You tried to stay quiet at first, in full prey stalking mode, until you realized you wanted the monster to hear you this time. Shaking your head slightly at yourself, you sped up so you were walking next to Dean. Glancing over at him you almost felt like someone had punched the breath right out of you. Dean was normally a ridiculously good-looking guy. Dean in glasses? Holy hell.

Just then you heard a deep-throated growl off to your left, your head swiveling towards the sound immediately. Both you and Dean tensed and crouched into defensive positions. Thanks to the glasses you could see the ugly mutt as it stalked toward you. Dean moved away from you, giving you both enough room to swing your blades. The hellhound seemed uncertain, or maybe it was just deciding which one of you to eat first. It only lasted a moment though, before it sprang at you. Possibly it deemed you the weaker prey, and technically it was right. Except you had no real need for strength here, you just needed to get underneath it so you could gut it with the angel blade. As your blade sliced through the hellhound, you felt Dean stab it in the back of the neck with his demon knife. Then you were covered in hellhound guts and everything was just gooey and sticky.

“Ok, this officially sucks. Why couldn’t it have gone for you instead? Freakin’ monsters.” You complained as you stood up after Dean helped you roll the monster off of you.

“Ugh, yea that reeks. Gotta say, kinda glad it didn’t go for me”, he grinned, then caught your death glare and quickly wiped his expression. “Uhh, I’ll go put a blanket down in the car…”, he muttered and went ahead of you.

He drove you both back to the same motel you had been staying at before.

“So, two rooms?”

“Save some money, get one with two beds.”

“Oki doki.”

You waited in the car while Dean checked you in and parked in front of a room in the back of the motel. The car had barely come to a full stop when you were out and into the room, heading for the bathroom.

While you were in the shower, you heard the bathroom door open, and for a breathless moment, you thought maybe Dean had decided to join you in the shower. The next minute though, the door closed again. When you got out of the shower you realized that must have been Dean setting your bag inside the door because there it was. You were grateful as you started grabbing clothes out of the bag, but then you slowed down and stared at your reflection in the mirror as the thoughts chased each other through your mind.

Slowly, you put the clothes back in your bag and instead wrapped the towel around yourself. Taking one more look in the mirror, you smirked at your reflection, before stepping out into the room.

The TV was on, and Dean was sprawled on the bed closest to the door. He had removed his jacket and boots but was otherwise fully dressed, a bottle of beer held loosely in his hand as he watched the screen with a blank expression.

When he saw you come out of the bathroom, his eyebrows hiked up and those damn lips quirked into a smirk again.

“Out of clean clothes?” Even his voice was smug. Damn that gorgeous fucker.

“Nope. Just didn’t want to waste time.” You tried your best to sound airy and nonchalant. Judging by his reaction, you pulled it off.

“Oh yea?” Now he sounded intrigued. Good.

“Yep. Like, just for instance, you are wearing way too many layers.”

“Am I? For what, exactly?” How did he look so damn confident?

Instead of answering him with words, you went over to him, putting a little sway in your hips. The sight of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed gave you immense satisfaction. So, the confidence was perhaps not that strong. Leaning down toward him, you plucked the bottle from his hand and brought it to your lips. You knew he was watching you, you could feel his eyes burning your skin, as you tilted your head back and took a swig of the beer, your lips wrapped around the bottle. The sound of him clearing his throat was your reward, and you felt your own confidence swell knowing that you were affecting him.

You set the bottle down on the nightstand, out of the way, and slid onto the bed. Placing your hands on either side of him, you leaned in, moving slowly, your eyes on his. The way his eyes widened, and he licked his lips, almost nervously, made your heart pound in your chest and sent a jolt of pleasure straight down between your legs.

When your lips met, it was better than you could ever have imagined. Those lips that looked so lusciously plump were soft against yours, and when you swiped your tongue along the seam between them, they parted eagerly to let you in. Your tongues stroked against each other, and you tasted the beer he had been drinking, and something else, something that was specifically Dean, and it made you a little lightheaded.

His hand moved from where it had been laying on top of the bed to stroke lightly along your arm. That was when you broke the kiss and sat back, knowing the towel was going to fall open and reveal you to him. The expression on his face when he took in your naked form was simply priceless and brought a small smile to your lips.

“As I was saying...you’re wearing too many clothes.” Your voice had dropped slightly from pure lust and he shivered at the sound as he started to rip his clothes off so quickly you thought he might actually tear them. It took him less than 15 seconds to get naked (not that you timed him or anything) and holy crap was he something to look at. You suddenly had the urge to count, kiss and lick every single freckle on that whole expanse of exposed skin.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you pushed him back against the mattress, diving in to kiss him again. When his hands came up to caress you, you grabbed his wrists and pressed them to the pillow above his head.

“Don’t. Let me…”, you whispered, your tone fierce, and you saw a sparkle in his green eyes. He nodded, the smallest smile pulling one corner of those lips up ever so slightly. It drove you crazy and you fisted one hand in his hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat to you, so you could mark him, and claim him. The sounds he made as you blazed a trail of kisses along his throat were absolutely sinful and each one sent a bolt of pleasure straight to your core.

You needed him, right now. He saw it in your eyes and nodded toward where he had discarded his pants. “Back pocket.”, was all he said, but you knew what he meant. In moments, you had dug the condom from his pocket and slipped it on him, to a deep throated moan as you rolled it down his shaft.

“Don’t move. And don’t come until I tell you”, you hissed at him as you straddled his hips and lined yourself up. When you sank down on him both of you let out a strangled “fuck!” at the feeling.

Bracing yourself with your hands on his broad chest, you rolled your hips, feeling every inch of him inside you, stretching you in a way that was just beyond words. You were pretty sure you were ruined for any other man for the rest of time. Slowly, you started moving, savoring the sensations as his cock slid almost all the way out of you, and then as you sank back down on him. You adjusted your position so that he would hit that spot inside you with each thrust and started riding him in earnest. He tried to take control of the thrusts but stopped when you growled at him. After that, he just hung on for the ride, his head thrown back against the pillow, lips parted around the moans dripping from him like the words of a prayer.

“Sweetheart...I can’t...I need…”, he whined, his hands gripping the pillow, desperately trying to hold back.

“Not yet”, you panted as you sped up, chasing your high. You dug your nails into his flesh, drawing more sounds from him, growls and groans, pushing you closer and closer until finally you were teetering on the edge.

“Mmm yes, now, Dean, come with me!” You coaxed him as you slid your hand down your own body, two fingers finding and teasing your clit. With a strangled cry he shook as he reached his release, the throbbing pulse of his cock inside you just enough to push you over your own edge.

Still panting, you threw yourself down on the bed next to Dean, who seemed to be having trouble catching his breath. You elbowed him in the side, and he grunted in response.

“We should do this more often”, you deadpanned, causing him to burst out into laughter.


End file.
